


Impacable

by GaleandRandy



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:04:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaleandRandy/pseuds/GaleandRandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is another long overdue fulfillment of one of the gapfillers that Astarloa requested with her winning bid in the help_haiti auction. She asked for a season three gapfiller about Brian and Justin going out on a counter-espionage poster mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impacable

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/galeandrandy/pic/000dtbd0/)  
**Title:** Impacable  
 **Timeline:** Gapfiller 310-311  
 **Summary:** This story is another long overdue fulfillment of one of the gapfillers that Astarloa requested with her winning bid in the help_haiti auction. She asked for a season three gapfiller about Brian and Justin going out on a counter-espionage poster mission.  
This was written for:[The Wit & Wisdom of Will Rogers Challenge @ Moon Shadow Tribe](http://www.mags-nificent.com/MSW/Challenge/Willrogers.htm)  
Many thanks to my beta Judy!

**Impacable**

_"Chaotic action is preferable to orderly inaction. "_ ~ Will Rogers

I love shopping for clothes by myself or even with my mother, but shopping with a label-queen perfectionist like Brian Kinney can be overwhelming and tiresome, especially when he’s buying clothes for me. He wants everything to fit perfectly and that means that almost everything he picks out for me needs tailoring. My waist is small but my ass is huge and I have short legs, so it isn’t easy to find pants he likes right off the rack. Jeans are usually a little easier, because Diesel has so many different styles, same with any club attire I get from there. However, dress shirts and sweaters are usually too baggy around my torso and too long in the arms so that means spending an hour at the tailor’s besides the three hours it took to buy the new clothes Brian insisted I needed.

Going shopping with Brian can also be torturously wonderful, if he’s buying for himself, because then I get to sit back and watch him modeling clothes and ordering people around and it feels like hours of foreplay passing between us. Sadly, that wasn’t the case today, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the attention Brian gave me. Brian’s hands were all over me whenever I came out in something he liked and my cock was so hard when we left for the tailor’s that I insisted he give me a blowjob the minute we parked in front of the shop. I came so fast it was somewhat embarrassing, but Brian did it on purpose, using all his special tricks to make me come quick and hard down his throat, not even pulling back to catch some on his tongue like he usually does. I guess he knew it’d leave me pliant and giddy, which I was the whole time I had my measurements taken.

When we finished there, we stopped by Daphne’s to drop off my things that didn’t need hemming and on the way back the tailor had the outfit ready that Brian wanted me to wear tonight. This outfit had been the reason we had gone shopping in the first place and I know it made him almost come in his pants when he saw me put it on in the store. Now that it fits me like a second skin, I’m going to have to drag him out of the loft or we’ll never put it to any use tonight.

I step from the bathroom into the bedroom and see Brian facing away from me, buttoning up his black shirt. Christ, the black jeans he’s wearing are sinful. They mold to him just as well as my leather pants mold to me. If I were a gay man and saw us walking down the street I think I’d probably drop to my knees and worship us. Actually, we’d probably corner the market on straight people too. I’m not usually so egotistical but I know I look hotter than usual and Brian, he looks… indescribable really.

“Is the fit good?” he asks.

“See for yourself,” I say, holding my arms out to my sides.

“You look…” His mouth hangs open and the green in his eyes vanishes to a deep dark brown.

I push my arms out to block him from touching me when he rushes forward. “No, no, no, no. You’ll have to wait until later to peel this off me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he growls like an animal, sandwiching me in between himself and the bathroom door.

“Brian, we have to get started,” I say, feeling my resolve slipping as his hands run down my silk shirt. His fingers creep into the waistband of my pants and I moan like the slut I am. Damnit! “Seriously, we have to go,” I try again, tilting my neck so he has easier access to the spot I love him to lick. “If we don’t go now then…” Mmmm oh fuck. What was I… no…no don’t take my cock out, we’ll never go anywhere if you….oh god. Ohhhh fuck.

“Just let me,” he says in a husky voice that he knows will make me give in.

And I do. Right there against the bathroom door, our pants lowered only enough for him to get inside of me.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I would’ve thought that getting your ass fucked would make you not act like such a princess,” Brian says, pinching my ass.

“Getting my ass fucked made me forget to bring the list and the map,” I reply. “We can’t go around and hang the posters just anywhere.”

Brian predictably rolls his eyes at me, as he’s done since I first discovered that I hadn’t brought all the much needed supplies with me and we were too far to walk back to the loft. “So, we’ve covered all the places you already put up posters?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“We can just take a cab back to the loft and get my shit and then I’ll know for sure,” I say for the tenth time.

Brian stops walking and drops the cans of glue at his feet. “This isn’t supposed to be so serious, Justin. It’s supposed to be a fun, big ole’ _fuck you_ to Stockwell.”

“Brian, you don’t get it. If we don’t hang them over his posters, they’ll just get lost in the masses of flyers and advertisements. I spent all day yesterday walking around Pittsburgh and writing down the places I saw them and then mapped them out.”

“Justin, stop!”

“You are not fucking me in this alley. It’s disgusting. Come on, we only have an hour before the sun comes up so we should just go home. I’m freezing anyway.” I turn around, hefting the strap on the tube carrying the posters higher on my shoulder and start walking.

“Justin. Come. Here.”

The low tone of his voice makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I slowly turn around, feeling more annoyed with this night, now that he’s ordering me around. “What?”

He bends and grabs the cans of glue in one hand and runs toward me, grabbing my arm and pulling me into an alcove with him. “Stay still.”

“Jesus, be careful,” I hiss, shaking his hand off me as I start to step down into the alley, but he pulls me back against his chest and puts his hand over my mouth.

“Be fucking quiet,” he whispers into my ear. There’s someone watching us from the window in those apartments up there.” He releases my mouth and points up around the corner where I can see light from a large window and the silhouette of a person. “They’re probably about to call the cops on us and I do not want to spend the night in jail, let alone what Stockwell would do if he saw me doing this and probably lose my job,” he whispers against my neck. “Fuck… where the fuck are we? Do you…”

I turn around and kiss him, shutting him up, because suddenly I’m all too aware of what he’d be losing if he’s caught fighting this fight with me. I break away from his lips, his breath warming my chilling cheeks. “Come on,” I say, dragging him with me. “Follow me; we can get a few blocks over by cutting through a community garden behind that building.” I take off, running and he’s behind me a second later.

The fear of getting caught amps up the adrenaline in my body, our footsteps and breathing loud to my ears in the quiet night. I run through the garden and head toward the back gate, holding it open and grabbing Brian’s hand as he comes through, pulling him to a stop beside me.

“Fuck…” he breathes raggedly, hands on his hips, bending over a little. “I’ve got to stop…smoking so much.”

I laugh and kiss him, pressing him up against the chain link fence, driving my tongue deep into his mouth. The adrenaline gives way to waves of euphoria and my cock fills the small space in my pants as I devour his mouth. “That was fun,” I say, still breathing heavily.

Brian’s lips quirk and he nods in agreement. “Hey, look.”

I turn to see where he’s pointing and all along the walls of the buildings across the street are pro-Stockwell posters. “Awesome. Think we’re far enough away from the cops if that person called them?”

Brian shrugs. “Probably.”

“Well, let’s fucking do this,” I say, walking out into the street, a smile on my face. I’m turned on and happy and it’s such a change from what I was feeling only a few minutes ago.

“It appears running from the cops does wonders for your attitude, Sunshine,” he teases, following me across the street.

When he’s right, he’s right.

We work quickly in a silent rhythm. We get the walls painted with glue in no time, weaving around one another as he hangs them high and I hang them low. We’re able to cover every poster on the street and as soon as we’re finished, I take off, running, sure that he’ll follow me.

“Where are we going?” he calls from behind me.

“I don’t know,” I say, slowing my pace until he’s beside me. “I thought you ran track in high school,” I tease him. I know I suck at running, so it amazes me that he’s been behind me every time we’ve taken off, running.

“I’ve been running behind you so I can stare at your ass,” he says, slowing down so he’s behind me again and smacking my ass.

I laugh at that, because how could I not have realized this before? I grin at him over my shoulder and take off at top speed, having no direction, but not caring where I’m going. I’m sure we’ll find somewhere to hang the rest of the posters tonight.

I spot some more a few blocks down and we put up more, once again in a quick fashion, barely stopping long enough to catch our breaths before running down the street again. Together we weave in and out of alleys, slide against the walls of buildings and dash across the desolate streets. We find five more spots to hang them. It’s chaotic and exciting in the rush of doing this with him, putting our efforts together for a common goal, sacrificing a night of dancing at Babylon for a night of protest and action.

We get back to the loft just as the sun starts rising. In a few minutes, people will start filtering out of their homes and seeing the new posters. I hope that what we’ve done will have some kind of effect on them.

“Come on, cat burglar,” Brian says, grabbing the collar of my black leather jacket and pulling me out of the elevator.

“I’d prefer not be referred to as a pussy,” I say, stumbling after him.

He laughs as we get inside the loft, pulling me with him up to the bedroom, shedding our clothes along the way. “All right then, night bandit.”

“Night bandit?” I ask, falling back onto the mattress. “So what does that make you?”

“A prowler in the night,” he says, dropping down onto the bed and crawling toward me.

I spread my arms out and wrap my legs around his waist. “Plow away, Brian.”

“I said **prowl** ,” he laughs against my lips.

“Day plower,” I joke, reaching for a condom.

“24/7 plower,” he corrects, tonguing my ear.

I slap the condom into his hand and yank his hair so his grinning lips meet mine for a wet kiss, my erection spilling pre-come between us. “Now shut up and plow me already!”

The End


End file.
